


War Story

by Redwings



Category: DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel), DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Blood, Canon Related, Eventual Smut, Flashbacks, Fluff, M/M, Making Out, Scars, Violence, ill tag anything that develops later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-04-08 03:22:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4288824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redwings/pseuds/Redwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Noiz only wanted to see if he could alter Aoba's past enough to make sure his scars weren't as permanent as his own, but when he finds himself in the world where Sly Blue is king, is there really anything he can do?<br/>More importantly, is there any way back home?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It Was Just A Thought At First

Noiz had finished the work he brought home from the office, sharing another delicious dinner with his beautiful husband, and now was exhausted enough to get to bed and share more time of the night with the love of his life. If the Noiz of several years ago imagined having a perfect life, it certainly wouldn't be anything near this kind of result; he'd be the Rhyme champ of all of Midorijima, defeated his hero Sly Blue, and stayed alive long enough to rub it into his parents' faces that their cruel product of a child still sullied the family name with his little lonely presence on earth.

Or, realistically, Toue could have corrupted the island by now and he would’ve been a mindless slave.

But beggars can’t be choosers.

He would have never imagined being in love - let alone engaged - to the same Rhyme hero he targeted, to a man with so many mysteries about him that Noiz forgot that this gentle spirit has been put through the ringer, and that he wanted to live forever just so he could spend more time with him. His Aoba.

"Aoba, hurry up," Noiz called to the steam slipping through the bathroom door. He himself had already curled up under the sheets, already showered and with half an idea to sport another. With a smirk he added, "You're gonna need another shower in an hour anyway."

"H-hey, none of that! I'm too tired!" stammered the voice from behind the door.

"Mmm… I'm sure burning the kitchen several times takes a real toll, huh?"

"Yeah, burning the kitchen making food for my greedy boyfriend is a real reward."

"Hey, that's fiancé to you, fiancé."

A giggle resonated from behind the bathroom door.

"I'm glad you picked up on that quick."

It opened to perfectly frame that messy river of blue hair, the skin as pale as a frostbitten flower, and shorts tight enough to hug those sweet cheeks just right. There were several light scars displayed on Aoba's arms, legs, and chest from his old street fighting. And had that accident that wiped it all away never happened, there'd definitely be more.

"Stop looking at me like you're monologuing, you little brat," Aoba blushed, hurrying under the sheets to his claimed space beside Noiz before his embarrassment began to show too much.

"Oh? How can you tell? You can read minds as well as break them? How talented of a fiancé I’ve got for myself," Noiz teased, earning a pout and a mild "Shut up" in response. He couldn't help but kiss his lover's face until his lips went numb and his arms ached from holding his lover too tight.

"What're you doing tomorrow?" Noiz asked softy into Aoba's hair between softer kisses. A tired groaned followed a sleepy and thoughtful sigh as the arms around Noiz's tightened in a stretch.

"Just shopping, I guess. We need more groceries and towels..." Aoba trailed off into a loud yawn, sighing as his fingers danced over light scars on Noiz's shoulder.

Sometimes when their hands trailed too much and didn't land somewhere provocative - which, for Noiz, was pretty much everywhere he could make an innuendo about - they would trace the scars on each other and fall asleep to the other explaining their war stories. Sometimes it proved to be a comfort that assured they saved each other at the right time – though Noiz was certain Aoba wasn’t the one in need of saving – and other nights it gave a chance for the other to reassure the other that nothing like that would ever happen again, that nothing in their lives would ever be as dangerous or extreme.

Tonight, Noiz gave Aoba a break from their constant love making to soothingly running his fingertips along the small of Aoba's soft back. There he found a long, thin and taut trace of skin that ran from the base of his spine to the base of his right shoulder blade. It was faded enough to only be seen in the sunlight of Germany, but it was still there and it was still a mark his boyfriend had to carry on his beautiful body – though nothing could ever damage that beauty of Aoba’s, not a thousand scars or more. Noiz had asked before about this particular work before, but he was fond most of hearing Aoba's sleepy and slurry talk when he was tired.  
"What's this one from?"

"Mm…?” It took a moment for Aoba to stir enough to think about where Noiz’s soothing hand was. “Oh, some idiot with a…with a knife, or something like that. Think I said somethin' an' it made him mad," Aoba sighed with his eye closed, pressing his cheek on the arm Noiz gave him to pillow his head.

"How'd you get out of that one?" Noiz asked, looking for a happy ending from his fiancé. It took a little while for Aoba to answer, and after a few threading strokes his German fiancé gave to his long hair, he awoke long enough to reply.

"Some guy picked me up 'n stitched me back up. I dunno who it was, too dark... Too sleepy..." Soon he became heavier and his lips parted with distance breaths. Noiz watched with unwavering eyes and a gentle stroke of his beloved's face. He wanted to hear more about how his tough ass beloved was once a kickass thug back in his glory days.

He couldn't imagine this face in the way that others described it as in the past; tight, sunken, blindly wild, fiercely driven like a madman, and exhausted from something other than running from the police now and then. He seemed tired of living, of people, of himself, but too tired to die, according to more than one familiar source. Mizuki had known Aoba the longest in that time, so when he regaled some of the stories about the things Aoba did or said when he was just a few years younger, be it drunk off his ass or sober with life, it was almost unbelievable. The only thing that made it convincing was the fact that Aoba proved he had the power to speak into someone's mind and break it, so that demonstrated his reckless Rhyme winnings and his eagerness to cut games short by doing so.

Sly Blue was the purest edge, the strongest but most contained wildfire, and the only person Noiz had his sights set on for the past several years.

Noiz couldn't imagine someone like Aoba fighting so much and hating so much that he'd end up in the highlife of Germany as a happy housewife, soon-to-be married to a successful businessman, and accompanied with two lovely bunny daughters, no less.  
Aoba struggled with life harder than most, but without it, how else could he have overcome? How else could he have promised Noiz so sincerely that the world isn't all that bad unless he had lived through it himself?

"Good night, Aoba..." Noiz kissed those sweet soft lips, startling Aoba awake just enough for him to kiss back and whisper:

"G'night. Love you... Noiz..."

"Love you, too." The words came as easy as breathing nowadays, and the meanings were just as full as the first day they admitted it to each other.

Some people believe that love is carved in stone between people; others believe it is made and grown between others. Maybe it's just a combination of both.

He should’ve listened to Aoba sooner when he tried convincing him to take care of himself. Noiz should have tried leaving Germany sooner to find Sly Blue and take care of him and keep him from being in pain, getting so many scars, and make his life a little bit easier.  
Noiz don't think too much more on that, and instead let his mind drift back to the highlights of his thuggish past, what he would've done had he met Sly Blue, how things would have turned out in the end had everything gone to the initial plan.

Would he have really tried hard to defeat him? Would Sly Blue crush his mind like the rest of his targets? If Noiz knew that, would he still fight him? Would he have felt the need to protect this blue haired Rhymer at all costs?

Soon these questions became the source that wore him out and led him to the darkness of the sleepy wonderland he called his mind…

..........................

Waking up came in a haze, as though Noiz's head was rigged with smoke pluming from his ears. His head throbbed like it ran with cogs to a broken machine, and his rusty joints almost felt stiff and heavy. He was on something hard so he must've rolled out of bed while sleeping. It wasn't unlike Aoba to unintentionally (sometimes) kick Noiz off while they slept together. He couldn't smell Aoba's shampoo anymore, so that must’ve been most likely. He didn’t feel like he slept for long so it was probably early as hell in the morning, maybe around 3 am, and he had work in 3 more hours. Fuck this, he hated waking up early. Maybe he should call in and spend some extra time with Aoba for kicking him off the bed… 

A stale groan came from Noiz while he sat up and rubbed his face with one hand, the other reaching up for the mattress.  
He swung a few times, missed, and grabbed something else that didn't feel as luxurious. When he opened his eyes, he was fully awake by what he saw.

It was just a couch. But, not his own in the living room he and Aoba shared, no. This was one he hadn't seen for decades, one he'd crashed on one time too many, one with too blood stains and suspicious blots that Noiz never managed to clean.

His old couch. Back when he was head piece of the Ruff Rabbits.

"The hell...?" His voice echoed groggily and the walls felt like they were getting closer together the more his voice rang through whatever room he was on his ass in. He got to his feet and inspected wherever the hell this place was.

Up ahead he noticed how basic his kitchen was - white walls with a shit stove and fridge - and his living room was no better - a television set on the ground to his right near a hallway, some trashed books scattered on the coffee table beside his legs, and his old disaster shoes by the front door to his left. In other words:

He was in his old apartment. The place he “lived” while stalking Aoba, before attacking Platinum Jail, before any shit hit the fan too hard for him to handle.

"Aoba?" His voice echoed flatly once again. "Aoba, you here, Liebling?" Again only panic resounded.

Noiz raced down the short hallway, looking in the dark bathroom to find no one but his reflection. The dim moon light from the nearby window shone just enough to illuminate his lone face. That face...

His hand reached for the light at a pace slower than he wanted, but when he flicked it on, he wished he'd just kept walking for a little longer.

His young face was covered with the same piercings as before, studs and rings and all. His ears were a metallic mess and his hair was as scraggly and unprofessional as it used to be.

Used to be...

No way.

No fucking way.

"Aoba!!" He raced to the bedroom to find it unoccupied as well. His single bed sheet was as messy as it could’ve been as if he’d just sit on it for a moment. The bedside stand didn’t have his alarm clock, the bed wasn’t sporting his change of work shoes, the walls held no images of him and his beloved, and his closet door was hanging off the hinges and swinging open as if he’d left in a hurry earlier, displaying nothing more than 3 outfits inside.

No one else was there but him and himself...

Soon Noiz's voice became louder and more panicked as he called out for Aoba. The hell kind of fucked up trick is this? Anyone who even barely knew Noiz knew that the only thing he feared aside from Aoba getting hurt was his own past, no matter how recent. Whoever was playing it on him better watch the fuck out.

He was starting to get so panicked that he couldn't feel the racing heart in his chest, the sweat down his back, or the throbbing in his head when he worried about Aoba too much when he didn't come home at the precise time he said he'd be back. Frankly, Noiz couldn't feel anything.

Wait...

...Holy fucking shit.

He pressed his hand to his face, and felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. He couldn’t feel the cold metal, the clamminess of his skin when he panicked, the tightness in the taut skin around his wide eyes…

"I can't feel anymore."

His voice was soft and only meant for his own ears, but what sounded from behind the couch made his heart give a spring of hope.

"Noiz's heart is fast! So fast! P!!" Usagimodoki announced along with his brothers as they bounced his way.

"Usagi!” He had to brush aside the slight relieved feeling for more important matters. “Hurry, bring up the most recent search I've done for Aoba Seragaki." He'd done something before where he tracked Ren for Aoba's whereabouts - something Aoba had a stern lecture for Noiz about afterwards - so this had to come up.

"Searching... P! One recent page! Frequented on Noiz's history!" the cube rolled excitedly.

"Where is he? What's it on?" This way he could rally up with Aoba and find their way out of here and-

"Aoba Seragaki! Aka, Rhymer Sly Blue! Last page visited: Police Records of Recent Arrest Warrants in Midorijima!"

Police Warrants? Since when did Aoba do anything that'd piss off the police...

Wait a minute, they haven't been to Midorijima in months, how could they- Since when were they…

Wait another minute, what the hell did Usagi mean by "recent?"

"Usagimodoki. The date."

The Allmate announced the "current" date, and repeated several times over with increasing worry when Noiz kept shouting for a repeat. Today is four years ago, way back when he Rhymed and fought and did drugs and fucked around and…

"Aoba." He had to find Aoba before he got too lost in this mess.

But, if Aoba had charges against him, did that mean that the Aoba here was the same Aoba with the fucked up habits of banging anything with a hole? This means he’d have to scan the streets for both Aoba Seragaki and Sly Blue.

He was used to not being able to feel, so maneuvering quickly to get dressed wasn't as much of a hassle as it could have been. He wore a familiar black and green sweatshirt, some ripped jeans over his boxers, but hesitated with his old beanie. He wasn’t himself now, he wasn’t the same Noiz as he was back then, and he didn’t want to pretend to be, either… He chucked the damn hat to the back of the room and bolted to the door with two Usagi's in his pockets for backup.

He shouldn't have been surprised when he walked out into the night to find Platinum Jail still standing and covering the skies with its bright lights instead of the sea of German cities. But his heart panicked with an unfelt beat all the same. It only meant that he was just as far away from home as he was from Aoba. Whatever sick dream this was, he was going to do all it took to wake up, no matter what kind of shit he’d have to put himself through or deal with.

Only Aoba mattered now. If Noiz could find him – any versions of him – then he’d be fine, he could deal with whatever the fuck else Fate dealt him.

He had one familiar mission to do, and that was finding Sly Blue.

What he didn't expect was to hear the name being chanted several blocks down.


	2. Personification of a Piece of Shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sly Blue makes the first move at taking this tech junkie out on a night on the town.
> 
> (Thank you everyone who gave Kudos, it really makes my day ahhh (*ﾉ∀`*))

"Sly Blue! Sly Blue! Sly Blue!"

Of course when you're king, you have people who want to see you fall, who put their lives on the line to take yours down with them.

But from the depths of the cheering crowd, it was hard to see who actually hated seeing a punk teen with too much bark to his bite beat the living hell out of another bratty kid in a pixilated battlefield.

People hustled around Noiz so much it felt like he was getting mauled. If he could feel it - and mind you, not being able to feel again was definitely up there on his "Shit to Worry About" list - it would've made him break someone's nose, but he wasn't focused on that right now. He was too engrossed with the kid taking a step from the Rhyme game sporting his nametag in bright, digital text.

Standing right there was Aoba, but it wasn't Aoba; he was all the things that everyone said he was - wild, maniac, fierce - and that was in his posture alone. He wore that raggedy jacket Noiz once asked Aoba about when they were cleaning the closet. He was holding the Allmate that once helped calm him down from freaking out, in a way that said he didn't care what happened to it. His knuckles were bloody and crusted and disgustingly warrior-like. His blue hair wasn’t a waterfall down his back, but a wild fire that looked like it’d never met a comb in its life.

The real Sly Blue stepped down from the finished death match, and welcomed his fans with a sneering grin and wildly sunken eyes that said he was up for anything - drinks, sex, drugs – while his opponent’s team was throwing slurs and threats masked out by the cheers of the onlookers. Sly Blue hardly gave them the time of day, his eyes lighting with a sense of dead life that was hard to explain. It was a look Noiz had seen on too many other Rhymers in his day to miss.

"Aoba," Noiz found himself whispering. Maybe calling his fiancé out like that would screw things up? Did Sly Blue mind being called Aoba? Did he even answer to that name anymore? Anytime Aoba brought up his inner demon, he said that this voice never liked being associated with Aoba, but he didn’t like to be cut off entirely either – a living contradiction.

But at that moment, Sly Blue reacted. He actually looked up in Noiz's direction, as though those bright yellow eyes - so distinct from the warm gold Noiz was used to - pierced through the crowd and saw only Noiz. The expression was blank and unwelcoming, so cold and harsh that it reminded Noiz of himself. This...wasn't Aoba.

Soon enough the champ Rhymer looked away as though seeing Noiz was a mistake, nothing more than a halfhearted glance at another human being. He waltzed away with a fawning crowd of thugs, flanked on either side by a pair of familiar blond clones with horrid fashion taste. Sly Blue motioned to a few members of the crowd to follow him, and they chased after him like starving, sex-thirsty animals.

Aoba never looked back.

"Oi, boss. You playing or what?" called a voice to Noiz's side. He recognized the kid as someone who'd Rhyme after Noiz's rounds just to boost the Ruff Rabbit name. A member of his old - or new, he supposed - gang.

"What? Uh... No, I'm heading out." He figured it was best to play it cool and go along with whatever is happening here. Anything out of line could seriously fuck with Noiz's plan.

But he must've been too expressive since the kid raised a brow and sneered his lip inquisitively, scanning Noiz up and down.

"You alright there, chief?"

"I'm fine. Beat it." That seemed to work; the kid nodded with a relieved grin and joined with the rest of Noiz's crew.

So this timeline or dream or whatever it was, was actually where Noiz's career as a gamer thug lord merged with Aoba's past mistakes? This couldn't be a coincidence.

He followed Aoba "Sly Blue" Seragaki to wherever in hell he was headed.

But he didn’t expect to accidentally run face-first into the Rhymer. This wasn’t supposed to happen, Noiz was supposed to stay in the back and observe and watch his moves and make sure that nothing –

“Hey, fuckwad, watch where you’re going. You coming or what?”

Sly Blue asked a question. His voice was like Aoba’s, but deeper, holding a threat to every word. It was…almost completely sexual. Now that he was close, too, Noiz could see a split lip and a yellowing bruise beneath his eye. 

“Where?” Noiz asked, earning a roll of Sly Blue’s beautiful, wild yellow eyes.

“To the usual club. You’re cute, come with me. Dancing. Drinks. The whole hookup, kid. We’ll get all kinds of fucked up,” Sly grinned with a half-hearted shrug.

This was a good shot at making sure Aoba was safe and out of most danger, and it felt nicer to know that Noiz still meant something to this kid. Obviously this Aoba didn’t know Noiz at all, meaning Aoba might not have followed Noiz into this mess, and it was just him on his own this time. Not only that, but the Aoba of this world thought Noiz was good looking, too. That must’ve been a plus, right?

Unfortunately, Noiz’s belief that he was special in Sly Blue’s pick of company didn’t last long; the kid was already inviting other “hot guys” to dance with. Soon enough he had a crowd of Rhymers and Noiz around him heading towards Platinum Jail. From what Noiz remembered of the place, right before you reached the outskirts of the island and broke into Platinum Jail’s territory, you ran into the night scenes, the clubs, the sketchiest, dingy side of town.

It was no surprise that this broken reflection of his fiancé would want to thrive there.

.

It took a while for Noiz to really follow Sly Blue’s crowd to the club, but he managed to catch sight of the champ entering a sketchy building Noiz wasn't too familiar with. He usually stayed on his own territory for the sake of being away from people who had nothing to offer.

Unfortunately that was exactly what he was surrounded with.

He was inside the club – the sweaty, light-drugging, sex-smelled, bloodstained hell house – seated securely at the bar and drinking a water bottle to remain and as sober and inconspicuous as possible, watching his fiancé for the next several hours with every dancer known to man.

He watched Aoba drink like a pro – something his Aoba was never too proud of or willing to do – and watched him dance his heart out with anyone who wanted to put their hands on him, and watched him race to the bathroom with his hand on his mouth at least twice this evening.

Several times Noiz wanted to intervene. He wanted to be the person who drank with him, danced with him, and held Aoba's hair while he puked his guts out. He wanted to be the other half of Aoba that his fiancé said he was. He was already tired of not being needed.

But somehow he was afraid to go near this stranger. It was a mirror image of his beloved - it was _his_ beloved, right? - yet the more he watched the way this character moved and spoke and glared, the less and less Noiz began to understand his Aoba. Was Noiz too nervous? Like he fucking knew, he couldn’t feel shit anymore. But he could admit that he was everything but comfortable with letting anyone else take the space beside Sly Blue that always belonged to him.

“Noiz is upset! So upset!” beeped the little voice in his pocket. Shit, he forgot about those two.

“Shut up,” he snapped, shoving the little cubes back down and turning them off before they shouted anything else.

Finally Sly came out of the bathroom with no one to help his staggering self out. His familiar bag was dirty and loose so he must have only just stuffed Ren inside. His blue hair was kept in a scraggly bun with more hair in his face than what was tied up, and even from Noiz's distance away he could tell how glazed over his animalistic eyes were. Sly was drunk, wasted, and high on whatever his "fans" gave him. He merged his way back into the wild dancing and Noiz only thought in passing about leaving and letting things play out. He could wait this whole dream out and maybe things would be normal when he woke up. He could be away from this world that seemed too real to not be, that seemed more messed up and dreamlike the more he watched the lights throb, a world where he had his chance at protecting this mess he once loved.

Being engaged to Aoba, having a real happy life, and being able to feel…

That _did_ happen, didn’t it?

Was that the dream he woke up from? Was taking out Toue, crashing Platinum Jail, and hooking up with Aoba Seragaki the real dream?

Now wasn’t the time to be getting existential, especially when Sly was grinding on some dude with less-artistic piercings than Noiz’s, looking as desperate as a prostitute in heat, hanging off that guy like…

… Oh hell fucking no.

Nothing, not even getting harassed by his fiancé, would keep Noiz away from him this time. Whether this was the fake end or real world, Noiz didn’t care – _no one_ touched his boyfriend like that.

Next thing Noiz knew, he was in the middle of the dance floor, handfuls of Sly Blue’s waist in his palms, grinding their waists together. He must’ve shoved the prick away blindly because Noiz couldn’t find the dude anywhere, but he didn’t think twice about it when a smooth voice rippled through his ear.

“Hey… You finally decided to dance?” Sly Blue asked, sliding his hands on Noiz’s chest and finding a comfortable place on Noiz’s neck, trailing near his hair and tempting to pull and knead, which, although he couldn’t feel it, would satisfy the tingle in his lower region. Sly Blue’s dancing hips, his wild, drugged eyes, his glistening sweaty face that changed colors with the lights like the personification of partying, was hitting Noiz where it hurt. 

And it hurt so good.

“You wanted me to dance with you? Should’ve grown a pair and asked,” Noiz said, his voice mellow and steady, but the heat in his tease very apparent.

“Doesn’t matter to me who the fuck you are,” Sly Blue said, kissing up the length of Noiz’s damp neck, “And it sure doesn’t look like you give a shit who I am, either.”

“What if I do?” Shit, Noiz didn’t want to say that out loud. He fucked up he fucked up he really fucked up. He didn’t want to get this involved yet, just in case he kicked the bucket in his future too fast.

Sly Blue’s hot grin fell right off his face for just a split second, long enough to give a sober flicker in his eyes, a furrow of his brows, and a disbelieving look. It didn’t seem like too many people gave him that kind of answer, but he wasn’t one to take flattery as a compliment, as fate proved, when his face recollected and he smiled highly once more.

“C’mon.”

Noiz didn’t ask where he was being dragged to, he was only glad that he left that rat nest of an orgy dance floor with the only person he wanted to be with right now.

Outside was still as pitch as night and the atmosphere of crowds around him was beginning to thin the more they walked. Well, Sly walked, Noiz just tried to keep in Sly Blue’s stumbling pace. Noiz had to push up on the Rhymer several times to keep him from falling on his ass.

"Oi, watch it," Noiz lectured at the tripped up boy in his arms. Even with Sly as limp as he was, Noiz could carry him with one arm easily. Those baggy clothes really hung on him, didn’t they…

His thought shot back into focus when Sly's eyes met his own. They held just enough edge to make Noiz's skin crawl, and just enough apathy to make his heart ache.

"Get th'fuck off me then," Sly slurred. Shit, he didn't even sound like Aoba. But he did at the same time too, and it was so sexy, so beautiful.

"You're high. And drunk."

"I could be higher and - and drunker, dipshit, now lay off me." Mizuki was right about Sly's piss poor language.

Noiz didn’t listen, and instead kept dragging Sly along.

They were only halfway there when Sly slurred, "We... Are we goin' to your place? I don't even know your name, hot shot."

"No, we're going to yours." He ignored that second statement.

Sly suddenly pulled hard at Noiz and he grinned with wickedly vicious eyes.

"We can't bang there, you stupid fucker." Bang? With him in the state like this?

"And anyway I ain't... I'm not fucking going back there, not like...like this," Sly went on in Noiz's silence. The look in the blue haired champ’s eyes said something a lot more than words ever could.

"There’s no other place to get you to, let’s just go back to your place." He had to get Sly to agree – it was the safest bet where Sly would be safe and taken care of at least till the next morning. Noiz could figure out how to get to Tae's house from here if he just took a decent look around…

“Like fuck we are!” Sly snapped, shooting off from Noiz’s side, his eyes wild and lacking any kind of restraint. He was really pissed about going to Tae’s house, apparently. The only thing Aoba mentioned about his past-self relating to her was that she would hound him when he was drunk or beat up, and Sly was both. But that seemed like the bare minimum of what happened in that house, the way Sly seemed now.

“Fine, we won’t go there. I’m getting out of the neighborhood, though.” He had to make it sound like he wasn’t getting attached to Sly Blue no matter how hard it was to not steal him away and make the kid remember who Noiz was, and what he did for Noiz.

This time Noiz took Sly's side, trying to make it seem as natural as possible while the kid leaned against Noiz's side and sluggishly dragged his feet the whole walk there, seemingly content with no longer being forced to his home. They both could hear the club from where they were, counting their steps, throbbing in their heads…

Aoba didn't even smell like before; he was sour and gross and sweaty and disgustingly beautiful. Noiz could never deny that last part, not with Aoba. Sly had a horrible habit of regaining his balance for a moment, then dropping suddenly for another second and dragging Noiz down with him. Maybe it was for fun, to annoy him, but it was only achieving in making Noiz hold him tighter, which neither seemed to mind.

“I’m getting tired,” Sly groaned in a way that said the opposite. “I’m gonna pass out by the time we get somewhere…” Noiz couldn’t feel it, but he noticed Sly’s hand slide down his stomach lower and lower. Then he then grinned in a way that Aoba never could. "Whadya say? Your place or the wall right there? How do you wanna do me?"

If this were Aoba - the real Aoba - Noiz would have ripped off his pants like Velcro and found the nearest hotel to love his fiancé right. But this... He knew Aoba was a wreck back in the day - no better than Noiz - but he didn't think he'd be capable of this.

Sly took Noiz's silence and wide-eyed expression as his declining answer. He snarled and pushed Noiz away with all his weak, drunken might.

"Fuck you, rabbit trash," he snapped, as though not wanting to fuck him against a public wall was an insult. “Fucking walking me around like a damn dog, you shitter. Piss off and stay clear of the Rhyme spots or I’ll break your ass like a fucking twig, asshole.” It was almost cute watching Aoba get worked up, but this was a whole new level of throwing a tantrum, and this kid seemed serious about ripping Noiz a new one. Seemed like this wasn’t the first time Sly Blue was used for someone else’s gain.

Noiz ignored Sly’s threats with a stoic face and a roll of his eyes, and swept the kid off his feet, tossing him over his shoulder and walking in the same direction while the Rhymer tried kicking and shouting. Seemed like people in this area were used to the sight and ignored the pair all the way to Noiz’s apartment. After a while Sly must’ve tired himself out because he soon stopped his shouting and settled for angry mumbles and sleepy cursing.

Noiz managed to unlock the door and carry the thug inside, tossing him on the bed in a heap of giggles and glazed looks while Noiz took off Sly’s shoes and tossed them across the wrecked bedroom.

“Nice place… Looks like you.” Whether Sly was insulting or complimenting didn’t bother Noiz a bit. He managed to get Sly Blue out of his jacket and socks, leaving him in a ragged pair of jeans and a shirt sliced enough to be less than a rag.

“Wear whatever you want, just get to bed or something,” Noiz said under his breath. He was tired and angry and just wanted to crawl back into bed with his fiancé. He wanted this to be over, to get the sweat off, wake up not to the smell of alcohol and drugs and sex…

Seemed like none of those were his options when a hard grip on his wrist tugged him back towards the bed and over the drunken Rhyme champion.

Cracked lips were smashed into his and wild hands threaded eagerly through his blond locks of damp hair, grabbing hard while the intensity of the kissing increased. Tongue on tongue, teeth crashing into each other, breath and moans choked and desperate while a leg lifted to tightly hug Noiz’s waist and ground hard. Sly tasted like alcohol and stale vomit, and his skin smelled no better. But it was still him.

“Wha’s…your name?” Sly managed to gasp between breaths, clawing his hand hard enough down Noiz’s back for the blond to actually feel it, and fuck did he feel it.

He was surprised he could even speak with the jolt of pleasure that electrocuted down his spine. “Noiz…”

“ _Fuck_ , Noiz, harder!” Sly begged, biting hard enough at Noiz’s bottom lip to draw blood and mix it with the sweat of their kiss. “F-Fuck… Fucking _break_ me already!”

Noiz didn’t fucking care anymore if this was Sly Blue, the guy who slept with anything with a pulse, who let other guys grind on him, who acted like he owned the scum of the world. All he saw was his Aoba, the one he felt like he left worlds behind, and that was good enough for him to hold onto, make the kid’s back bend off the bed and press against him just to try to feel again, their hardened hips grinding harder into each other and more moans escape than many occasions of foreplay Noiz had with Aoba. It was hot and heavy and Noiz was ready to strip them both and take him in a hazed heat.

Sooner than Noiz wanted, Sly’s arms became limp and his head rolled back.

He…passed out while they were making out…

As insulted as Noiz halfheartedly was, he ignored the tight feeling in his jeans and instead rolled off the sleeping Rhymer. He should’ve slept on the couch and left Sly Blue to crash on his bed alone so as to not wake up to a stranger like he seemed to always do.

But it was the way the moon shone on Sly Blue’s hair, the way the shadows silhouetted the light on his pale, sunken skin, his lips parted between breaths, his eyes closed in a mix of contentedness and exhaustion. His skin was still sweaty and dirty and his breath smelled like ass, but Noiz would take anything he could get. He could touch his face, hold him close, but couldn’t bring himself to do it, even though whatever he was, whatever time or dream this is, it was still Aoba.

Still his Aoba.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noiz joins Sly at the club and ends up taking him back to his apartment and making out ensues but Slys an ass and crashes :v
> 
> Just build up for a little upcoming drama oh snap
> 
> Thank you to all those who Kudos ahhh~ <3 <3 <3
> 
> If there's anything misspelled please let me know!! c':


	3. A Split Second Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noiz has to come to a decision whether or not to embrace this new world and find his "fiance" to make things right, or stick with the flow and become whatever person he has to be now.  
> (Sorry it's a little short, I had to break it up with the next chapter to flow a little betterヾ( •́v•̀ ;)ﾉ )

As much as the Aoba Noiz knew loved sleeping, Sly Blue seemed quick to get the hell out of the apartment much quicker than expected. What woke Noiz wasn't the lack of body warmth or the feel of another's presence - because, well, lack of that damn sensation, right? - but the absence of the perfume of alcohol and vomit from the night before. He checked the clock; roughly 5 am, never a time someone should be up.

It reminded Noiz of where he was and what he was doing here. He didn't wake up beside Aoba, or in his real home or country, and had no idea how to get back to it all. So apparently waking up here didn’t result in his being back into the world he knew.

If it was even real at all. That thought kept steadily in his mind since it crossed. It would’ve made him extremely tired and sad, if he could feel either of those properly. It made him start to think that he just fell asleep wrong one night and dreamt of a life where he was happily marrying the Rhymer of his dreams, living with a decently-talking relationship with his parents, met up with his brother often for coffee, and _felt_ happy. It wouldn't have been the first time Noiz had dealt with similar dreams, but none ever felt so real.

Pushing aside his desperate attempt at piecing his life back together, he got out of bed and took a walk through his old apartment. He was half hoping that Sly stuck around if even for a while, half expecting him to be in the kitchen clad in boxers and asking what was for breakfast. Instead, Noiz found his cupboards violently manhandled, displaying a few gaping spaces and hinting at someone raiding and taking all they could. A few packets of ramen, some tasteless crackers, maybe some bottled waters seemed to be the missing stock. He didn't care; Sly needed any number of calories he could get.

Thinking of Sly's body, he was starting to reflect more on last night's escapade in bed. Though nothing but making out ensued, Noiz couldn't forget how riled up he got with Sly's body pressed against his, moaning and breathing hotly and begging to be broken. It'd taken Noiz a little while to get Aoba to beg even a little, let alone make sounds like those so early in the lovemaking. So sweaty and needy, and hot...  
  
But seeing him was a mistake. Noiz shouldn't have dove in that quickly to the opportunity of being with his true love, no matter how right it was.

After that night, he kept himself locked in his house until he was running short on food, a matter of 3 days. He kept himself busy doing more research on where he was, what was going on around him - which was more or less the same as three years ago aside from Sly Blue still being around - and keeping his team updated on Usui's whereabouts. He slept alone; never crossing the side of the bed where Sly slept for some reason, and always woke up at the most awful times of the morning to nothing in particular. He thought sometimes of the life he thought he left behind, believing less and less that it was real at all. Loneliness crept on him after the first day, and left him sad the next, but he felt he was supposed to be used to it by the time the third day rolled around. Though he didn't dare dream of going back outside in the thriving hours of the night where the only person he craved loitered the world. Noiz couldn't risk running into him again or making things worse. He couldn't manage to run things into the ground. It was stupid of him to think he could run into Sly and leave things as they were before, so he shouldn’t do anything more to stir up the dirt in the water.

But he couldn't stay away from him.

Regardless of his paranoia of trashing this world, Noiz threw caution to the wind, grabbed his jacket and retrieved his boots, and was about ready to head outside until he saw the beanie with the gaudy buttons still thrown across the room from when he first woke up.

It wasn't really him, Noiz had told himself before. He wasn’t the Rhymer who sought out a desperate game from Aoba Seragaki, the kid with little to no hope about the world’s supposedly bright future. But now things had changed, and he'd be whoever the fuck he was supposed to be in this place until he managed to return to the utopia he was starting to believe he had only dreamt of.  
He shoved on the hat and left to find a face – any face – that could settle the storms in his head.

It was late, Noiz knew, but he didn’t give a thought to estimating the time. He figured waking up in the morning to go out would’ve been a better idea if he wanted to avoid the Rhyme games, but he pretended to think it would be a coincidence if he managed to run into Sly at such a time in the evening.

He headed near the outskirts of town again, near the club he picked up his target from only a few days ago. Dancing and fighting ensued in the distance, smoking and drinking could be smelled from a mile away, and it looked like the time of anyone’s lives. Here in the slums of Midorijima, no one cared if you were a hotshot in the real world or owned a million businesses or was from a completely different country. All anyone needed was a warm body and enough drugs to get them to do unspeakable things.

The same reason why Noiz never cared for people in the first place.

Somehow he found himself before the doors of Black Needle. A memory of meeting Mizuki skimmed through his mind, back when Aoba properly introduced Noiz to his bartending artist friend. The man was fairly pretty and had a nonchalant air about him, something that was comforting and mysterious. He was kind and treated Noiz like a friend. Right now that’s all he needed and he prayed that’d be what he got.

Inside the bar was only half full, mostly of Ribsters from the looks of poorly designed but beautifully executed artwork on various areas of their skin. Noiz never understood why someone would be _that_ attached to a gang to want to permanently mark themselves for life. It wasn’t his problem, Noiz concluded, and headed straight to the bar where a friendly tender was finishing a conversation with a pair of laughing thugs. Noiz took a seat two chairs away from a hooded, brooding figure to his left, and a flirtatious girl to his right who seemed more than interested in the scars a Ribster was flaunting about.

“Hey, what’ll it be, buddy?” Mizuki greeted Noiz with a friendly smile and acting as though he had nothing to hide.

“Whiskey and coke.” Drinking was never Noiz’s forte, but he’d grown into a decent tolerance of it after a bet-gone-wrong with the Old Man.

“Coming right up! Say, you’re not a Ribster, are you, kid?” Mizuki asked with a skeptical raised brow, the smile never fading.

“Not really.”

“You Rhyme then?”

“Sometimes.”

“That’d really explain the getup,” Mizuki laughed, then turned to the figure looming over a half-empty shot glass. “Oi, Aoba, you’re starting to bring Rhymers into my bar, what gives?”

Noiz jolted to the name but didn’t dare look at the groaning man beside him.

“Piss off, Mizooks,” he slurred, “And gimme another shot, does it look like I’m f’king done here?”

“No way, you’re slowing it down a notch.” Noiz looked up to see Mizuki rolling his eyes and returning his attention to Noiz with a kinder tone, placing the fizzy drink on the counter. “I don’t usually get Rhymers around in Ribster territory, so I’m a little surprised you found this place on your own, kid. What’s your name?”

Noiz regretted this move:

“Noiz.”

Instantly Sly Blue raised his head in a sharp way his direction. He could feel it – Sly’s eyes landed on him and intensified so much he could almost feel the heat pricking at his skin. He wanted to leave but there was no good excuse he could make and coming here was a mistake and fuck all he wanted to do was see Sly and try to fix whatever the hell mess this was and-

“You. What the actual _fuck_ are you doing here?”


	4. How Long He Was Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noiz and Sly have more bonding time~
> 
> Thank you so much for Kudos!!  
> It really means the world to me, I hope you all continue to enjoy my work c':

“You know him, Aoba?”

“It’s ‘Sly’, ‘zuki,” the Rhymer slurred bitterly, moving seats and pressing his side against Noiz’s. He smelled like he was graced with a bath and toothpaste not too long ago, but the smell of alcohol was beginning to fester in his clothes again. “How the hell did you find me, kid?”

“Wait, wait, wait, this is the guy you were pissing about for the past several days?” Mizuki flabbergasted. Noiz actually managed to side glance at Sly without breaking character, a signature smirk coming on his face regardless of what looking into that maniac, beautiful face did to him.

“So you thought about me? How romantic.”

“Shut the fuck up, how the hell did you find me?” Sly snapped, managing to get closer to Noiz’s face without touching noses.

“You two better not break anything while I’m gone,” warned Mizuki as he was called to the other end of the bar. Noiz didn’t grace him with a single acknowledgement, keeping his eyes on Sly and drinking up how nice it felt to be near him again, even if the thug looked on the verge of exposing Noiz’s insides to open air. He managed to look away and take a sip of his drink nonchalantly, more comfortable here than he’s been in the while locked inside his house.

“So… Did we bang or what?”

Noiz’s head shot up and he looked at the thug with expectantly tight lips. Sly was trying to seem cool and confident but Noiz’s awaiting answered seemed to put him on edge. This was a little out of character, even to Noiz.

“No, we didn’t. You fell asleep.”

“Then why are you following me?”

“I’m not, I wanted to drink.”

“At the exact same bar I’m at? If we don’t have baggage with each other then how did you find me here?”

“Because I followed the smell of shit. It’s been three days, if I was aiming to follow you I wouldn’t have let you leave my place to begin with.” Sly almost looked offended until a smile crept up, too fast for comfort. He leaned in close again.

“What,” Noiz asked with a harsh side-glance. Sly wasn’t phased.

“So you like me?”

“What?”

“You like me. That’s why you’ve been stalking me, huh?”

“I was never stalking you.” Honestly, why was Noiz fighting it? Why was it so damn hard to just be honest?

“Hmm… Sure thing, maniac.”

Great, even in this place Noiz was still stuck with that same fucking nickname.

“So you roll that way or what?”

“What way?” Noiz asked with a raised brow.

“ _Guys_ , dude, _guys_. You like me then what are you? Bi, gay, pan? What is it?”

“Doesn’t matter. So what if I like you.”

“Ah-ha! So you do, then, huh?”

“I never admitted it,” Noiz concluded, downing several gulps of his drink. The haze of a buzz hit him hard but he was good at maintaining composure for a good while.

He heard Sly give a sharp sigh and lean off of him again.

“…So we didn’t fuck?”

“No. Why is that such a big issue to a hot shot like you?” Noiz asked without looking. The most Aoba mentioned about his sex life was that he was “experienced” but never with a man before. Or did he manage to forget that in his past as well?

“None of your fucking business, ass wipe, that’s what.”

How convenient.

“So what then, you Rhyme?” Sly asked, apparently over his earlier question. “Never seen you around before. You ever win a match?”

“Every one of them. I run Ruff Rabbit.”

“Huh… I kick your guy’s asses like every Tuesday, it’s a real riot. Your team is totally made up of pissbabies, so I guess that makes you the leader of the loaded diaper gang, huh?” If Sly was trying to push his buttons, smashing on his Rhyme team was far from doing it.

“Guess so.” Sly scoffed.

“Yeah. And your hat is fucking stupid.”

“Agreed.”

“You look like a cactus with all those stupid piercings.”

“’Stupid’ is what I was going for.”

“Oh yeah? Well… Bunnies suck ass anyway.”

“Sure.”

“You keep up with the fucking smart ass answers and I’ll fucking knock your teeth out, you salty shit.”

“I’d really like that, actually.”

Sly frowned, unsatisfied, but stayed without complaint for a little while longer, his side still oddly fixed to Noiz’s. A pregnant silence developed between them as the bar continued to brew arguments and laughter all around the pair of lone Rhymers. It was Sly who – unsurprisingly – broke the silence with a long berated sigh and the slamming of his shot glass on the counter.

“Well, this chat was real fun and all but I’m gonna bounce. You coming to the Rhyme game later? You probably know all about it since you track Usui or whatever.” Noiz was surprised Sly stuck around even after their bickering. He wasn’t sure what either of them was trying to accomplish, but something was there between them that wasn’t a moment before.

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Come on, not even to cheer me on?” Sly grinned crookedly, almost mockingly. “We could Rhyme and see who stays undefeated. That’d be a real show, huh?”

“Could be.”

Sly flamboyantly waved his hand with a roll of his eyes. Stuffing his hands in his pockets he left the bar without another word. Noiz wasn’t sure why he didn’t turn around and follow that angry thug out of the shop, or even look at the way his hips moved as he stormed out, or just exchange coils and kept in touch. Noiz wasn’t sure what he’d even say to him over text, other than he wanted to meet as much as possible.

“You guys managed to talk without breaking anything? That’s a surprise, Aoba’s not one to go for a fight without making sure he wins.” Mizuki’s voice seemed to have come out of nowhere. Noiz looked up and nodded a little, sipping his drink more nervously now that he was alone with the bartender.

“Between you and me, since you seem to have gotten on his better side,” said Mizuki, resting his elbows along the glass of the countertop, “it’s nice to see him making some friends. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a riot to have around, but you guys got along well. I don’t really like him spending time with those twins.”

“Twins?” A pair of blonds the night Noiz woke up to his world flashed in his head. As if he could forget those idiot outfits, even if their presence was only a flicker.

“Yeah, haven’t you seen them around? They stalk him like his fucking shadow, says they’re his biggest fans. So, good job with whatever you did.”

“I didn’t do a whole lot,” Noiz admitted halfheartedly.

“Even better!” the artist laughed, but was cut off with a surprised expression and his eyes looking past Noiz’s shoulder, which was suddenly grabbed and dragged out of the door.

“Come on, we’re Rhyming, I don’t care what you say,” said a familiarly pouted voice. Noiz shrugged off the grip on his shoulder but as soon as he turned to properly face his kidnapper, he was grabbed on the wrist and dragged to the darker depths of the city lights. It could have been the harsh glow of the burning lights or the chill of the night, but Noiz could see a red glow on Sly’s face that he didn’t pick up before.

“Change of heart?” Noiz asked with a grin. He noticed the tightening of Sly’s grip around his wrist but unfortunately couldn’t feel a thing.

“Shut up. I wanna Rhyme you, that’s it. No one can remain undefeated for too long and I wanna make a joke out of you.”

Noiz only hummed, any words he thought of before leaving him. He remembered liking it when his dream fiancé would drag him around the store after making an embarrassing scene, the blue haired beauty having the same blush on the tops of his cheeks that Sly carried. Even as this cocky kid tried to strangle Noiz’s wrist and tugged him several times in hopes he’d trip over his feet, it was almost just as becoming.

The Rhyme battle wasn’t as far from the Black Needle as Noiz expected. The lights cascaded like confetti as Usui was announcing the first pair of competitors to a large, cheering crowd. Noiz recognized a handful of the attendees from the first night he was here. Some were members of his gang, others from the opponent’s and competitors, others were Ribsters just here to watch and entertain themselves, it seemed. Must’ve been part of Dry Juice if they were around a Rhyme match; it seemed to be the only group even interested in associating near Rhyme matches.

“Fucking great,” Sly groaned as soon as he saw the ongoing game. He nudged the kid in the brightest spotlight, the one with the list of names of upcoming rounds. “Oi, loser, we got next round.”

“Got it!” He, like everyone else, seemed a little too excited to see Sly go up for another victorious round. If Noiz kept his head down for a while longer he could be without company and still be with Sly. If no one recognized him immediately as the guy running Ruff Rabbit with a winning streak, associating with Sly Blue, then things would be nice if only for a little while longer.

“Good evening, Aoba-san!”

“Yoohoo, Aoba!”

Well shit.

“Well fuck me sideways,” Noiz heard Sly groan under his breath, the glint in his eyes edgy and dark as a pair of twins appeared from out of thin air of the alleyway. Looks like Sly wasn’t as fond of the pair as much as dream-Aoba was before. Noiz liked this better. “The hell do you guys want.”

“We came to see you play again, of course!” the tall one – Vevo? Vial? Virus, maybe? – grinned with thin lips.

“Uh huh. Looks like you already have your game on tonight,” the bigger dolt nodded like he had marbles in his fucking head. Just looking at these two was giving Noiz a migraine. Something about them and the way they spoke, moving around his rogue Rhymer like they hadn’t a single clue to leave him the fuck alone, was starting to itch under Noiz’s skin. He could see the way Sly was physically repelled by them as he closed the space between himself and Noiz.

“Guess so. Noiz, not-twins. Not-twins, Noiz,” he said without so much as looking their way, waving his hand only in their general direction.

“Noiz-kun? A pleasure,” said Velcro, clearly not pleased but hiding it well with a plastic grin. “Good to see you’re making new friends, Aoba-san.”

“It’s Sly, you piss bucket.”

“Of course, how could I forget?” the twin sang with a tilt of his head. Sly didn’t even grace him a glance. The shorter of the twins looked at Noiz with piercing eyes, but before he could pry – which, from the way his upper lip twitched in a way Noiz knew from experience, meant that the guy was about to start getting under Noiz’s skin – the other bad-fashion-clad idiot spoke up.

“So how did _you_ two meet? You’ve never fought this guy before, Aoba.”

“He’s nobody.” Sly answered too quickly. Noiz recoiled his hand from the grip around his wrist Sly failed to let go of.

“Oh? Doesn’t seem like it,” Trip said with a growing smile that echoed how empty his fucking head was. “You picking fights again, Aoba? You know what usually happens afterwards, right?”

“Isn’t this the Ruff Rabbit king? How interesting you spend your time with someone like this.” It wasn’t like Noiz wasn’t used to people talking about him like he was something different, but he didn’t feel as used to it as he was so long ago. He ground his teeth together and rolled his shoulders, ready to throw the first punch if they said just one more fucking thing.

Sly looked at the looming pair for a split second, eyes frantic for some reason, grabbing Noiz’s hand without them noticing – or even Noiz noticing at first – and brought up their weaved fingers.

“He’s my boyfriend. Gonna kick his ass. Now back the fuck off already, would you?”

The twins exchanged a slow glance between each other, the opposite sides of their mouths curling into Cheshire grins. Without another word, they glanced at the pair of Rhymers, and slipped into the alleyway as nonchalant as ever.

“Boyfriend, huh? What happened to me being some nobody?” Noiz asked. Sly didn’t say anything, his bottom lip protruded and his thousand-mile glare intense. The feeling around his hand was so tight Noiz could actually feel every trembling muscle Sly’s rage held.

Suddenly a shrill voice called out from across the crowd:

“POLICE! Everybody RUN!!”

“YOOOOO!!!”

That second voice was one Noiz could recognize almost faster than he could his own.

“IF YOU RUN, I SWEAR I’LL LOCK YOU UP FOR THE REST OF YOUR MISERABLE LIIIIVES!!”

Immediately Akushima’s police started raiding the Rhyme match before either of them could enter the ring. It was a good thing for one since their history-breaking match would’ve sparked way too much attention, and they could also get further away from whatever hell hole the Yakuza twins slithered into.

“Run,” Noiz ordered from under his breath as police guards raided the screaming and feeling crowd. Before Sly could think of any course of action, Noiz sprinted in a random direction with their hands still interlocked, turning through alley after alleyway to outrun the footsteps on their tail. Looked like someone mentioned the game’s whereabouts to Akushima for a nice reward, or Noiz’s team let a detail slip without him catching it, which wasn’t much of a possibility.

Several minutes passed and they were getting close to losing the cops, but they weren’t in the clear completely.

“Get back here!!” the guards shouted.

Noiz tugged Sly awkwardly down a sudden break between two buildings, slim enough for the both of them to squeeze unnoticed into. He wrapped his arms around Sly’s shoulders and hugged him tight without a second thought, the rogue Rhymer’s hands shockingly finding purchase against Noiz’s chest, face hidden in the dip of Noiz’s sweaty neck. The both of them held their breath as though being caught would be the end of them. And with the long police records they had, it very well could have been.

The police passed by without any realization, much like a bad cartoon sequence as heavy footsteps echoing off into distant nothingness on this sleeping island, a signal for the pair to let out the suffocation in their chests.

Oddly enough, not even gang fights in the area or skirmishes inside houses could be heard. For once it was a peaceful night in Midorijima’s dark neighborhood. The pair’s panting breaths were the only sounds in the thin space between them, heartbeats frantic and gasps as loud as club speakers.

“They’re gone.” Noiz spoke first, his voice careful as though Akushima himself were just around the corner. He doubted it since the idiot flaunted his prized megaphone too often to let it go unnoticed.

“Yeah.” Sly’s voice barely sounded from beneath Noiz’s chin. The blond tried catching his breath fast enough to assess the situation better and get themselves home. But when he realized that they were pressed chest to chest in the silence of this cold night, arms pressed and wrapped around each other for damp warmth, faces a breath apart if Sly would just lift his head, he wasn’t exactly prepared to move.

Noiz realized Sly had said something when he caught the end of a mumble, too entranced with their positions.

“What?” he asked breathlessly.

“You ran with me,” Sly repeated in gasps, his drenched face still hidden against Noiz’s broad chest. “You ran with…me. Why the hell didn’t you just leave me behind, it’s not like…like it’s my first time running from them, you…you know.”

Noiz didn’t really think about that too much. He didn’t think about how he would’ve done the same if this thug were his delicate fiancé, how he didn’t want Sly locked up in jail for the sake of getting to know the person Noiz _knew_ this kid wasn’t at all, how he was greedy and wanted the dream life now drifting from him to just be a little bit real, just for a moment. So he could be just a little less alone, just for a little while longer.

“I know,” were the only words he could find to say at the time. A scoff resounded in response.

“You ‘know’,” bitter words echoed. But the pair of hands on Noiz’s chest didn’t move or push away – as far as the brick wall behind them would give, that is. “You don’t even fucking know me, kid, and I don’t fucking know you either. I don’t even know why I keep…” His voice trailed off like the cold wind carried the words straight from his dry lips.

“Why what?” Noiz asked, his eyes locked on the mound of blue hair under his face.

“It’s stupid, don’t worry about it, brat. The pigs are gone, let’s get going.” Sly tried to push Noiz away and squirm his way out of the tight space like a nervous cat.

But Noiz wrapped his arms tighter around his shoulders and locked the rogue in place, against his chest, against his legs, nothing left untouched against each other.

Sly’s eyes locked on Noiz’s in a defiant way, yellow and childish and angry and tired all at once. His face was matted and dirty and sweaty and his hair clung to his skin like the layering dirt. Noiz couldn’t imagine he looked any better himself. But he didn’t dare compare himself to someone as beautiful, and broken, and shattered like Rhymer Sly Blue.

No… Aoba Seragaki.

Soon Sly’s eyes softened just a bit, averting to the side, as a resigned sigh slipped past his lips. Their breathing was settled but neither knew just how much each other’s heart was racing all the same.

“I, uh… It sounds cheesy as hell, but I…” He swallowed hard.  “I think I had a dream about you before. It wasn’t some nasty shit so don’t think that way, you fucking perv.”

“I didn’t,” Noiz lied.

“Yeah, yeah, well… Anyway, you looked familiar. I saw you at the game I played a few days back and, I dunno, I guess I just…” He trailed off again but Noiz wouldn’t allow it.

“What did you dream about?” he asked. His voice was soft and earnest and it didn’t seem to bother Sly in the least bit.

“I thought I knew you for a long time, I think. I felt real happy and I thought it was real for a while. As soon as I saw you I thought I finally fucking lost it.” He laughed sadly and shook his head, pressing his forehead against Noiz’s chest tiredly. He mumbled tiredly, “It was a while ago, brat. I woke up and the dream was all done and over.”

Noiz asked before he could think his words through, “How long ago?” A shrug rubbed against his hold.

“Like a year. Two years. A while.”

That long… Whatever happened between him and the Aoba he left way back when had happened to Sly Blue…as well? And it had taken Noiz perhaps several years to arrive in this place – all the while leaving Aoba alone to loathe the world he dreamt away – at this specific moment, just in time to save Sly’s ass from being locked in prison.

No, it had to be something more than that.

It had to be some kind of act of fate, it just…had to be.

“It’s really stupid, I know. Don’t think this doesn’t make me less hardcore or anything, I’m not bitching over this. You just looked familiar so-“

His words were silenced by a desperate kiss with no teeth or tongue or sexual implications, with arms around his frail shoulders pressing him against a warm body. It was just lips against lips, gentle regardless of how dry and sweaty and gross each other felt. Sly’s wide eyes scanned the peaceful face Noiz had on before he succumbed to the feeling in his chest, hands grabbing fistfuls of Noiz’s shirt as he kissed back with as much eager delicateness he could muster.

There was no grinding or neediness other than the want of each other’s kind touch. It was simple and nothing like Sly had ever felt in his wildest dreams – well, all but one, it seemed…

Noiz parted the kiss just once to whisper as quietly as he could:

“I’m so sorry, Aoba.” He was sorry for not coming here sooner and for leaving him alone to deal with this shithole of a world all alone. He was sorry for abandoning him like everyone else in his life, whether or not he had control over it like the others had. He was sorry for not trying to find him in those three days just so they could have each other to lean on in the meantime.

Maybe it was the exhaustion from running, or the several drinks stirring in his head, but for some reason of all the praises and cheers Sly had ever heard in his Rhyming career, this was somehow incredibly settling. It was all he felt he wanted to hear in his entire life; it was kind and honest and hopeful.

It was frightening. Getting attached, being lied to again by another person just to be cut off at the blink of an eye without reason, to get left alone to fight on his own. His stomach dropped at that instant realization that he had already gone too far with this kid, but not too far to let it end here.

He pushed off of Noiz before their lips could unite once more in the perfect fit they seemed to have. He squirmed out of Noiz’s surprised hold easier than before, and landed himself in the open space of the maze-like alleyway. His face was flushed red, eyes full of regret, and nervousness keeping his arms locked at his sides in trembling fists, incredibly quickly out of character. He struggled to find words as he awkwardly brushed his hair from his face.

“Sly-?”

“I, um… I gotta go.”

Without another word, without a goodbye or exchange of numbers like Noiz’s earlier intention, without even looking back, Sly somehow found enough energy to sprint back to the Black Needle at least a half mile away from where he left Noiz speechless and wondering what he did wrong.


	5. Let the Games Begin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if there are any mistakes or if it seems rushed at all, I'm trying a new type of writing and it's also really late and i wanted this out there ovo;;

After that night Noiz locked himself inside his house for however long he could muster keeping his face smothered in his pillow. Maybe it was the next night or the one after when he next found the willpower to get up.

What happened for him to scare Sly off that night? Was saying his real name something Noiz shouldn’t have done?

Fuck it. Fuck everything. Fuck Sly Blue and fuck Noiz’s dreams and everything he thought could hold hope in it. He didn’t need anyone and he had no idea why he kept clinging to the idea that he _had_ to have someone. He started off alone so why not live the rest of his life alone.

His frozen heart still wrenched itself around in his chest to these thoughts, to the feeling of being pushed away by the only person he thought he had a right to care for. Again.

He’s done this again and again.

He hoped for his parents to open the door again and again. He waited months on end for his brother to come by and keep him company regardless of what his parents threatened Theo with. Noiz hoped again when he got to Midorijima – albeit for a moment – that these people weren’t as bad.

Until he realized he had no real methods of getting money. He had to do something before he learned how to work technology with his bare hands, but he didn’t think these people were so sleazy to have asked for such disgusting things in return.

No, this wasn’t the past. This was here and now.

But Noiz wasn’t sure what hurt most.

He tugged thoughtlessly on the hat he never took off. If this world was the one he was supposed to be in, he’d have to accept who he was supposed to be. Nothing would change, just like nothing he’d ever prayed for had changed in the past.  
He didn't do research, he ignored his annoying ass Rhyme team (which he should really consider tossing his leader role to another dumbshit), and hardly ate.  
By the time Noiz found the energy to get up and try out another day, it was around 4pm on a cold Thursday afternoon, several days after being ditched in a damp alleyway. The bite of winter was dulling - as far as Noiz could tell, when his piercings would come close to frostbiting his skin - as spring arrived. This meant that more people would be coming out to party, meaning more members in Rhyme, meaning more chances to run into Sly and forever watch his P's and Q's on anything that could trigger him again. That is, if he ever saw him again.  
What happened that night was… It was whatever, but it was still something. Did that even make sense?  
Whatever he came to terms with in the moment could subside for now; he hadn't eaten in too long and he was actually starting to feel his insides burn. He could order something and have it delivered, but that still meant having to deal with people, and all he wanted right now was a quick walk outside of the empty walls he discovered himself hiding in once more.  
Although 4pm wasn't at all late, the night was quick to take advantage. The clouds locked in the island's cold and it was all but comfortable to keep walking to the nearest convenient store. Once inside a decently lit corner store, Noiz filled two plastic bags worth of food for several more days. He didn't care what he took or what it'd taste like, nothing had appeal to him anymore now that the world was reverting to its dark haze Noiz once believed in, long before he had that stupid "dream."  
What did he say to turn Sly away like that?  
_Fuck_ these stupid thoughts; they weren't leaving him the hell _alone_. All he wanted was to be alone. Right now he felt it was all he was good for. As much as he admitted it to his fake fiancé in his fake world that he never wanted to be alone for another moment in his life, it was all he craved.  
When Sly pushed him away like that, looked at Noiz that way, and kissed him like he actually fucking meant it...  
Noiz should have never left his childhood prison.  
He let that thought echo and help him numb his mind as much as his cursed body, just as the worst possible sound he could have ever imagined shattered the silence like a violent war cry  
"Noiz?"  
Lime green eyes met wild yellow, a shocked expression met a halfhearted grin. If Noiz thought he couldn't breathe to the thoughts of his own personal damnation, he sure was suffocating now.  
Sly stood with his hands in his signature jacket's pockets. His weak smile held a busted lip sporting a shrinking cigarette. He was still dirty and his hair was a wreck, nothing like the waterfall Noiz dreamt of again and again, but it was still that stupid, fucking, gorgeous shade of blue.  
"Hey." Noiz was surprised he could voice anything at all but he managed to keep his cool and blame his nervous tremors on the cold he couldn't feel.  
"Yo, kiddo, haven't seen you around in a while. What gives?" Sly smirked, dropping his smoke and stuffing it out with his worn heel. "Weren't we supposed to Rhyme or something?"  
Noiz could see what he was doing right then. Noiz had caught onto this habit from many people, including himself; the thug felt the same way Noiz had (perhaps not as badly) and was trying to play that incident off with a similarly recent topic. Noiz could see it in his eyes, the way they were cautiously glistening, Sly's chin up and tilted to the side to maintain a facade of levelness. The walls Noiz thought were brought down the moment they kissed were now twice as barricaded.  
"Guess so. I've been busy."  
"Getting another piercing done?" Sly grinned crookedly, adding before Noiz could answer, "What'ya got in those?" Must’ve been desperate for a conversation.  
"Junk food. I think. Why?" He could see the way Sly's eyes were sunken extra deep and his skin’s color as pale as a corpse that he hadn't eaten in a longer time than Noiz had. But the rogue Rhymer managed to cover up his staring at the bags with a simple shrug, averting his eyes to the vacant streets.  
"No reason, I guess."  
"You wanna come to my place for dinner?" Noiz asked abruptly. His throat closed a moment right after, his fists clenched at his sides like a nervous schoolgirl. The hell was going on? It was just dinner and it didn't mean anything and it wasn't like Sly _couldn’t_ use the food.  
Sly eyed the bags once more, a subconscious lick of his lips passing. With an obviously struggled sigh, he forcibly shrugged, "I'll pass." His pride was obviously more important that how his clothes fit his sorry excuse for a body. Whatever was going on in his head about that event was not letting the awkwardness slide, but neither was going to address it, apparently.  
Sly Blue began leaving the opposite way he was initially waking. Just seeing him walk away, leaving Noiz alone like he thought he wanted to be, dropped a massive weight in his stomach down to his toes.  
"Oi!" Noiz called, grabbing anything he could in his bag and hurriedly tossing it to Sly. The Rhymer managed to turn just in time to catch a hearty sweet bun, packaged with little flowers and Chibi bears with sweet little smiles. He frowned at it wordlessly.  
"Just take it. I don't like looking at your flat ass," Noiz said with his expressionless face. Sly seemed to appreciate the gesture all the same as a smile broke out on his face again - more of a sneer, really, a habit he obviously couldn't shake.  
"Sure… Hey. That day after the club. I wanna say sorry for taking your food," he said, a wild look in his eyes. Noiz mimicked it perfectly.  
"But you're not, are you."  
Sly's grin grew bigger and he looked almost as delighted as he did when he was giving Noiz shit as Mizuki's bar.  
"I'll see you around," he said, stuffing the bread in his pocket without another word. Sly left quickly, not sprinting or hurrying or with any dark intent. If anything there was a spring to his step that Noiz could barely catch.  
But he did, and it was one of the most reliving things he has ever truly felt.  
The next few days worked more or less the same way. Noiz would come across Sly either by coincidence or with purpose, always seeing a new wound on the Rhymer's face, some scars worse than others, some in the same places where Noiz's hands would trail on his dreamt-up lover. Sometimes Sly would be mixed in a throng of people, sometimes heading to a club or just running solo, but no occasion was greeted the same way as before.  
Often Sly would eagerly invite Noiz to hang with him, be it with just each other or in a group. Other times Sly would hardly grace Noiz with a glance his direction, be it alone or accompanied, the people never mattered. Those nasty twins would be around Sly Blue most of those time, and almost every moment they were, Sly would ditch them in a heartbeat and join Noiz's side, feigning their "relationship" established only a few days prior. The other times Sly was with those twins and Noiz was around, yellow eyes would glance with a hint of guilt and embarrassment and give quick movements, usually taking some small bag from the twins and pacing off to leave Noiz with nothing else.  
They never talked about those moments.  
Whenever they were together they'd talk about Rhyme or people – never something below the surface unless they were high – over lunch or a drink at Mizuki's bar, or sit in silence for the time being.  
So far the only consistency with any of their encounters was when they'd part ways. It was never on Noiz's terms - frankly he'd never want to leave. Sly would always cut the conversation incredibly short despite any topic, and say his farewells to Noiz before heading off somewhere on his own. He never told Noiz where and the tech junkie never asked. It became a usual thing to expect Sly at any time to cut the chords of anything coming too close to crossing those walls of his and becoming something more than two people sharing time together.

And slowly Noiz knew why the blue haired devil left him that night. He could understand why Sly never wanted people too close to him, even if it was never voiced between them. It still hurt, the memories of that night, but it was becoming more bearable the more times Noiz caught a glance of those captivating eyes.

It was one of those nights, the two of them sharing a dying cigarette in the back of a damp alley, below a diminishing argument of an angry couple a few floors above. Noiz had saved Sly from a fight a few hours before, the both of them flaunting a matching black eye and Sly with a little extra bruising on his jaw. It didn’t bother either of them for the time being – partially because Noiz’s couldn’t feel it, and Sly liked the pain, he admitted earlier – and they left themselves untreated until the cold began to burn their skin, like the many times before.

“You wanna go get dinner or something?” Noiz asked. Sly glanced at him, cigarette in his lips. He parted them to blow out a smoke into the thinning, icy breeze.

“Maybe later.” Noiz pushed his boundaries too soon, it seemed.

“Your loss.”

“Mmm. Nah.”

“We had dinner yesterday, what’s the difference?” Noiz finally asked. Their conversations would trail into something similar to this every night, leading with Sly answering the same way:

“Nothing. Just don’t feel like it.” Sometimes he’d fight more about it, other times he’d just say it like it was no big deal. Whatever it was, Noiz would respond with the same silence.

Every night was becoming too merged together; soon to the point where Noiz forgot about the dream he had, about actually thinking he left Sly here alone. It never happened, and he owed Sly nothing at all. He had to keep worrying about himself, and only sometimes give his best friend the time of day when his heart would yearn for something Noiz felt he forgot long ago.

“I’m buying, though. Isn’t that alright?” Noiz asked, cautious eyes betraying his nonchalant tone. Sly noticed but didn’t address it, it seemed.

“I don’t need your charity, you shitty brat. And I’m not that hungry, anyway.” His voice seemed to trail off, his eyes locked with Noiz’s in a way the tech couldn’t read well. Sly’s eyes roamed down Noiz’s body, his lips pursing before he averted his gaze to the pairs of people laughing down the sidewalk nearby. “I’ll see you around.”

“I’ll Rhyme you. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” Noiz called out before Sly could take another step away from him. Yellow eyes snapped back but Noiz snapped before any argument was made, “Just one game. That’s it. I want to beat the shit out of you or you to me, I don’t really give a shit what happens.” Sly frowned.

“Then it’s no fun.”

“Then I’ll beat you and make you eat those words. Maybe you can tell me what failure tastes like.” Another round of silence that only provoked a threatening tone from the Rhymer.

“You’re serious?”

“Dead.”

“You’ll wish you never said that, y’know.”

“Don’t care. Rhyme me.”

Somehow this position seemed familiar, like Noiz had been here before. Probably from that dream long ago. Something along these lines happened in his dream with Fake Fiancé but it was too simple back then, too clean and pure and happy. Here was the real life nit-and-grit of the real world’s back alley.

All thoughts burned away just as Sly Blue turned all the way to face Noiz, slowly closing the space between them and eyeing Noiz hard.

“I’ll break you.” It wasn’t a threat so much as it was a changeless fact, but the warning was there. It sent shivers down Noiz’s spine and he wasn’t sure how fearful it truly made him, so he responded with silence.

He decided how scared he should’ve been when a splitting grin spread across Sly’s face like a knife through warm butter. It was sickly sweet like the aroma of a rotting corpse. He couldn’t look away, not for the life of him.

“M’kay. Let’s go.” The blue-haired thug took Noiz by the wrist and began dragging him down a random sidewalk, scanning the crowds and looking for familiar faces of a Rhyme game. Although Noiz knew where the Rhyme games would always be – usually to avoid seeing Sly around – he didn’t want to cut any second spent with this blue haired devil.

It didn’t take too long since the weather gave enough pity to allow more than several Rhyme matches this night. The crowd turned from the victorious match in the center to see Ruff Rabbit’s own leader in tow of Rhyming Legend Sly Blue. Cheers took the place of utter silence, the crowd – including some Ruff Rabbit members – going hysterically wild in hopes of getting a bloodbath.

And now that Noiz thought about it, that’s probably how things would end. Sly was serious with the threat that he’d break him, and it wasn’t like Sly to hold back on much, if anything at all. Chances were, Sly didn’t see Noiz the same way as Noiz did to him. Right now it didn’t matter, anyway.

Sly greeted the crowds with open arms, cheering as though he’d already won, a victorious smile on his face as cheeky as his signature attitude. Noiz carried himself as he always had, deadpanned face and cold. He was secretly delighted; he got to spend more time with Sly Blue, even if this crowd was around and making the air hot and sweaty. For a second, he felt that being here was right.

No matter how it’d end.

They took their places on the small pedestals as Usui called out their names, earning cheers from the crowd loud enough to call Akushima and his dogs over if they were close enough. The world around them gave a sudden flash into the game world of Rhyme, their Allmates already at their sides and at the ready, prepared and in their gaming modes.

Ren looked like the mysterious side of Sly Blue, who’s no longer hiding any sense of coolness at the moment, though he could look cool without trying, Noiz had to admit.

“When I’m through dragging you through the dirt, tell me what it tastes like,” called Sly over the distance cheers. Noiz couldn’t hide the smile that came from his chest.

“’Kay,” he said. Noiz finally has what he’s always wanted, right? He has more time to spend with Sly Blue, his best friend, in a technological world where he could feel something, even if it’s just synthetic feeling, and if he wins, he remains undefeated, and if he loses he could finally leave this world behind. He’d like to think he’d miss Sly Blue, but if he could keep this memory in his mind, dying wouldn't be half bad…

Perhaps he had a strange look on his face, because Sly’s expression changed into something the tech couldn’t place, again.

But whatever words came to Sly’s mouth were silenced to the sound of Usui’s thundering call.

And the game began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tada~ Stay tuned for the results of the greatest Rhyme match of the century c;


	6. Rhyme Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rhyme game that kinda ruins everything...

The Rhyme game was as magnificent as anyone expected – beyond so. It lasted longer than realized, as either fighter was persistence in their strategies, aiming for blows under the belt, cheap shots, powerful attacks, and defenses as strong as expected of either veteran player.

Sly Blue had yet to use his powerful final attack, too engrossed with the battle before him. Never before had he faced an opponent with such tactics and strategies, it was beyond entertaining.

Noiz felt the same way. The virtual pain was getting him almost too riled up. Occasionally, when he caught sight of a pair of yellow eyes across the battlefield, when Ren’s attacks and Usagimodoki’s sparks dispersed just enough, Noiz could see the same glint in his opponents eyes that would spark something intriguing and familiar in his chest. It was an indifferent feeling.

But it was _so_ hot.

Finally, either player was at their limits with slivers of their health left. The crowd was going insane – screaming and cheering and waiting for the finale – as Rabbit Head and Sly Blue were at the final blow, with Sly Blue already wheeling in for the final attack, eyes wide, grin encasing his entire face as blue hair whipped around him like rivulets of water, his commanding voice lost in the growing roar of his Allmate’s blast.

Noiz has never been more in love.

The world went white before Noiz knew it. The ground below him was suddenly concrete and rocky, the digital world he created no longer surrounding him. He was on his back with his eyes aimed at the sky. His name was floating above him, but not in the wide letters that signified the victor of this match.

The crowd was silent, until a familiar voice yelled in victory. That’s when the crowd screamed and shouted and cheered and the energy was practically sparking. Noiz heard his teammates running to his side, asking if he was alright, if his mind was melted, if they could have his things if he died.

He couldn’t tell. All he knew was the adrenaline rushing through his heart and soul, the feeling of throwing and receiving attacks that made him feel more alive than he’s ever felt, leaving him breathless and ecstatic in the afterglow. All he knew was he lost the best match of his entire life, and he wanted to feel it all over again – win or lose – just to feel it again.

And again.

_And_ _again_.

His enraptured thoughts were severed with a pair of wild yellow eyes and a little grin. Blue hair draped down at the Rhymer stood with his legs beside Noiz’s shoulders, locking him into place.

No words were said between them for the longest time. Only their eyes met, faint breaths passing between them as Sly remained towering Noiz. The cheers of the crowd seemed to echo off into an unknown world, not paying attention to the tension between the players. The older of the two was the first to break the silence.

“Looks like your record snapped,” he said, his tone holding no tease or even mockery. Noiz grinned.

“It’s a shame. One day you’ll see how it tastes.” He kept his face deadpanned, making Sly’s smile grow wider with a different expression.

Sly Blue straightened himself up, adding a quiet “See you, kiddo” before departing with a new passé. He didn’t look over his shoulder to see Noiz off or wait for him. Noiz didn’t expect him to, and for once he didn’t mind as much as he expected he would. If anything, it was nice to see the bounce in Sly’s step again.

 -------

Whatever happened that day was far from being unspoken about; every Rhymer on Midorijima was talking about the intense battle between Sly Blue and Ruff Rabbit’s king. Occassionally Noiz was approached by people begging to hear what he had to say about it – most of the time he’d end the conversation without a response, whereas other times he punctuated his answer with a fist to the face – but for the most part he was left alone about the entire thing. He continued with this information business, sometimes drifting off into thought about that Rhyme match and how alive he felt for once.

_Was it the Rhyme match that made him feel this way? Or just the fact that he was spending time with Sly Blue?_

He didn’t put stock into that thought. It didn’t matter what happened here anyway. He was finally grasping onto the idea that he was going to be stuck in this world all over again, much like how he was since before he had that odd dream. He couldn’t imagine Sly Blue being anything like the husband he dreamt up. Where he even thought of that world, he had no idea. A place where he got along with his parents, spent time with his cheery younger brother, was married to his old target, a man with no crease between his brow, with no hatred in his eyes, with an upright spirit and the biggest smile Noiz had ever seen that could light up his entire world…

All the qualities that put a sourness in Noiz’s stomach.

The hours of the night dragged on. Noiz was satisfied with the fight between him and Sly to feel like he had topped off his fix for feeling alive. But he couldn’t get those locks of blue out of his head, that commanding voice, not unlike the voice of the husband he thought he had had before, the same voice that could make the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard at any given moment. Hell, he was getting riled up just thinking about it.

Noiz had to see him again. Several hours hadn’t been enough to satisfy him at all, it seemed.

Next thing Noiz knew, he had his signature hat placed on his head, boots strapped tight, and was already ventured into the cold chill of the early morning’s night. It was 4am, give or take a few minutes, meaning Sly was either wasted in his favorite ally or spending quality time with a few of his fans. Noiz hardly preferred one instance to the other at this point.

All he knew was that he wanted to be with him again and pretend those moments where he was happily in love could possibly be real for just a minute.

It took several walks around the blocks of the usual area to feel a sense of extreme loneliness, the same kind Noiz would get when Sly would turn his back on him and leave to die a little more in someone else’s arms.

That thought brought a bitter taste to Noiz’s mouth, the only way he knew he was really feeling this bad. Maybe he could make Sly forget about the rest of the world like that dream husband of his did; they could play videogames together or Rhyme again or get high together or drink their asses off or make out for several hours, or Rhyme. Yeah, Rhyming again sounded like the best. But they’d do whichever Sly Blue wanted to first.

They always did what Sly wanted to do, and there wasn’t a single feeling against keeping it that way, in Noiz’s eyes.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets, breath coming out in breaths of white that were only more exaggerated by the shadows cast in a nearby alleyway where harsh coughs echoed a man in pain. Poor bastard caught in the cold like this. If Noiz wasn’t so caught up in his thoughts, he might’ve helped the guy out just to have someone owe him one. He could always use a favor in the right moment.

But the locks of blue hair that pressed against the frosted bricks, haloed with smears of red, were what Noiz saw first.  
Sly Blue had his back against the wall, and shivering so hard he looked like he was caught in a spasm. Sure it seemed like it was cold out, but now that Noiz couldn't feel, it was fine for him. It could have been the new scars the thug was sporting that made him shiver to the bone. Again, something Noiz didn’t know too much about.

For some reason, Noiz found himself disregarding Sly’s personal taste of his mile-long personal bubble, of the air of threat and hurt that surrounded him, and walked to him.

The closer he got, the more he noticed the busted lip, the scrapes and rivulets of dried blood over torn clothes, and caked dirt over blistered and bloodied hands. It looked like more damage was done to the side Noiz didn’t see, and to Sly’s back where the wall seemed most raw with the glistening red staining it. Whatever Sly did to piss of whomever, he got more than what he bargained for.  
Yellow eyes darted up from the cigarette he was trying and failing to light. Those wild eyes flickered more than the lighter, acting as though he were trying to fight the pain and last through the cold to preserve some kind of facade for an empty crowd. Noiz would have felt pity for Sly if he were worth it.

  
"What?" Sly snapped. Even like this, Noiz felt as though he swam in the sound of his voice. Damn these mixed feelings…

  
"You're shaking."

  
"…Huh... Guess so." For once Noiz wasn't picking up a bad vibe from him; he must've dried up from his high already.

  
"You're bleeding, too. You're gonna get sick."

  
"Piss off," Sly barely graced Noiz with an initial glance, but froze instead and looked him up and down with a growing sneer. "Don’t tell me you actual feel sorry for me. Don’t put me that low."

“I wasn’t,” Noiz said too quickly for his liking, still awkwardly standing at the end of the alley.

“Then what the hell do you want, _huh_? You _that_ in love with me? So fucking sprung you couldn’t even get off with the thought of getting your Rhyme gang to kick my ass, you just have to come and see the damage for yourself?”

Well that was news.

“What?”

Noiz couldn’t imagine his Rhyme team going after Sly Blue, especially when they know the relation between them. So why did Sly blame his current state on Ruff Rabbit?

“Don’t piss around with me!” Sly shouted, pushing off the wall in order to charge at Noiz, but failed and managed to land himself back on the wall, clutching the saturated side of his jacket and groaning. “ _Shit fucking_ _dammit_!! Can’t…even fucking…”

“You’re bleeding everywhere, come on…” Noiz reached out to take what looked like Sly’s good arm.

But with the way the rogue recoiled, Noiz would have though it lit on fire.

“Don’t you _fucking_ touch me, you fucking _freak_.”

He thought he dropped that name when he was little.

He thought that name wouldn’t sting when it didn’t come from his parents.

He didn’t think his best friend would think of calling him something like that.

Especially when he knew what it did to him.

A voice in his heart said Sly didn’t mean it, that Noiz should believe that he was just mad because he thought Noiz’s gang beat the shit out of him. Where that out-of-character optimism came from, he had no idea. All he had on his mind was how bad he could feel when there was no way he could feel at all.

“Bounce outta here, kid, if you know what’s good for you,” Sly finished thoughtlessly as if it mattered.

Noiz watched him try to keep lighting the cigarette with failed attempts before snatching the Rhymer's wrist and forcing it from his hand before dragging him mercilessly out of the dark.

"Get up. It hurts to look at you."

"Hey hey! Let fucking go!"

 This time Noiz whipped around and slammed Sly against the wall, pinning him by the shoulders and digging into his fresh wounds.

"You want me to let you go?” Noiz said through clenched teeth, angry at himself for not expecting to be thrown away like this, angry that it was from Sly of all people. “So what, you can freeze your ass here alone in the fucking cold outside and become a little blue popsicle? Real nice."

"Wouldn't be the first time," Sly said with a tense roll of his eyes as though the pressure from Noiz's grip was meaningless, but the way his body shook said otherwise. "What's it to you? What do you want from me?"

That line took Noiz back. This guy... Sly sounded just like Noiz. Everything had a price; someone always wanted something from him. It was unlikely that people just wanted him.

And Sly was no different from any of them.

"I don't care what it is but if you just wanna kidnap me and fuck up my day so early, bunny boy, eat my ass and piss off." He struggled in Noiz's grip – weakly, halfhearted in going away or staying.

"And let the cold get you? My treat." Noiz wasn’t sure if he meant it all the way, but now he'll let this kid decide what their fate together should be. Noiz wouldn't decide for himself, he was too caught up with what _was_ other than what _is_. His dream of having that perfect world come back to life was getting out of reach. All he needed now was for Sly to be the one to put it that much further away.

He let go of Sly, the kid taking a trial step back and looking for an escape. All he found were empty, cold alleyways and no one else to entertain him, and a growing weakness that was taking over his mind. Slowly the eagerness to get away diminished and his shoulders sagged, his eyes softening their hardness and exhaustion taking place. He was tired from so many things and a room with four working walls sounded nice, even if passing out would be a quicker pleasure than walking all the way there. It seemed that same feeling of passing out was coming quick and merciful.

"'Kay, you win. Pamper me."

And darkness clouded golden eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was supposed to be much shorter than this ahh;;; but i love writing this ;w;
> 
> Also Ive been out of internet for a while so updates are gonna be slow, but updates nonetheless~
> 
> thank you and I hope youre all enjoying it so far!


	7. What do you think about me now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Im so sorry for the late ass update but I hope everyone is still enjoying the tale!! School just started again and ive been working on my portfolio and ahhhhh/////
> 
> please love these babus :'3c

Sly woke up at least twice during the struggle to Noiz’s apartment; once when they were about halfway there – Noiz told him to go back to sleep because he felt heavier when he was awake and kicking – and another time when they got to the front door. It sounded like Noiz thought he was asleep even as they walked inside, because he kept murmuring under his breath as they walked into the apartment, something bitter by the way he spat whatever words he cursed.

Sly’s hazy eyes barely rolled around the room – an oddly familiar place, too – before he felt himself being thrown on Noiz’s bed – also oddly familiar. Everything felt too much like a dream to place too well, as though the room was spinning faster than Sly could break someone’s mind. Maybe it was all a dream and he’d wake up back in that alleyway halfway dead, and half relieved about it.

As Sly groaned and rolled on his good side, he heard Noiz’s voice resonate:

“If you leave, I won’t follow you. You’ll die out there and I won’t go looking.”

He was really hoping it was a dream now with the anger that seeped through Noiz’s words for some reason. Something must’ve happened. Sly was too tired to think about it, too in pain and too exhausted.

Just too tired…

______________________

 

Sly’s glazed eyes struggled to flutter open (much less of a flutter as it was his eyes rolling around in his skull). Something was moving above him, but he was comfortable where he was, face smothered with a pillow and sprawled on the bed. A groan slipped past his lips just as Noiz finished putting on the last bandage on Sly’s bare back.

“Tist bl’d,” Sly grumbled. Noiz leaned in close to his pillowed face.

“What? Can’t hear you.”

“Said I taste blood,” Sly groaned a second time, pushing his face further into the bed. He jolted to the sound of the scissors cutting the threat of his new stitches, the result of the tugging sensation on his back skin. He whipped his head back, “The fuck are you doing?”

“You’re cut. This is the worst of it but it’s a clean one, it’ll heal fast. Your others are too scabby, so try and clean them off in the shower when you get up.” Sly gave his signature groaned response before he could muster up his groggy voice.

“M’fine.” His shaky arms tried to lift him up but he collapsed on his face again, this time on the bed other than the grit of the street earlier. He moaned louder, hugging the pillow harder with a whine on grit teeth, “I don’t feel goooood. Th’fuck happened?”

“I’ll tell you later. Just get some sleep and shut the hell up already. I’ll be back with dinner so you don’t starve yourself out of your jeans.”

To the sound of Noiz getting up, to the footsteps thumping the echoed ground, images flashed before Sly’s eyes of before he got pummeled:

A crowd approaching, wild eyes, threats and weapons ablaze in the cold wind. Someone took his bag and threw it somewhere, kicking Ren to the side and maybe breaking him, Sly didn’t know. He felt pathetic for caring, up until the first blow hit his stomach, his head, his arms and legs, every defense he gave ending up futile as his skin broke and words were shouted like a chant. Ruff Rabbit wanted revenge for their leader, to get back their pride by blood.

That thought burned every decent memory Sly had of the pierced teen. Sly couldn’t stay here in this shitty bed in this shitty place with a shitty traitor. He struggled to his hands, his arms shaking like an earthquake as he fought against the pain.

“Don’t get up, you’ll ruin my work,” Noiz returned with a sigh. Sly ignored his protest and managed to get to his hands and knees, shuddering all the while.

“Do you think I need your _pity_?” he hissed with clenched teeth and trembling breaths. “You think I need someone to fucking _save_ me? Someone like _you_?”

Noiz didn’t say anything. Frankly he wanted to sock Sly in the jaw and be done with him. Something told him to keep his peace for a minute longer. Just a minute.

“I didn’t do this to you,” he found himself saying. That got Sly stilling his trembled long enough to look at him with wide eyes and parted lips, waiting for clarification as he shuffled to sit properly on the edge of the bed. “And my gang didn’t do it to you either. It wasn’t me or Ruff Rabbit. I don’t know how you got that idea.”

“Quit fucking lying, they made damn sure I knew it was your fucking crew,” Sly spat, his knees trembling as he tried getting up.

“They hardly Rhyme. All they do is get information. I’m the only one who Rhymes.” Sly seemed almost confused like his brain got kicked out of his head, his eyes down and his brow with a small bandage on it furrowing as he sat back down.

“They said they were. Said I deserved it for beating their leader.” They said a lot more than that, but Sly didn’t voice the words shot at him.

Noiz leaned against the doorway, tired of this.

“It wasn’t my people. They were lying. Even as a whole, most computer junkies aren’t too good with fighting.” He paused, waiting for Sly to come back and retort and fight it all.

But he remained quiet save for his struggled breaths.

“You never lied to me before,” the wounded man admitted with a soft shrug of one shoulder, his eyes suddenly held with darker bags and a soft glint. He huffed a single breath of laughter, but it fell as soon as it came. “I called you some shit names, too. You even wrapped me all up like a damn Christmas present.” He noted that while twisting his wrist around, cleaned and stitched beneath the bandages.

“Yeah, guess so,” Noiz said, his anger wavering. Sly snickered at that.

“Well, looks like someone doesn’t like me. Though that doesn’t exactly shorten the list of who did this to me.” His entertained smirk fell into a different expression. His hands turned to fists, clenched as tight as a guy who just got his ass beat to a pulp could clench them. In the darkness of the room, with the light back in the living room as the only source, and with Noiz’s shadow cast over him from it, he seemed like a poorer sight only more.

“I don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve someone like me.” Noiz waited for him to go on like always. Sly rarely talked like this, and when he did it was smart not to interrupt. “I’m a real hassle. All the time, I get you into trouble and you don’t even care about it. I really like you, Noiz, so…”

“So what then?” Noiz asked. This time Sly couldn’t keep going.

Yellow eyes met green, in the same intensity like back in the alley where they hid from Akushima. The same waiting game of who would break the silence first. This time it didn’t last too long.

“I have to go. I have to leave before…” Sly couldn’t handle this. He couldn’t handle having any kind feelings to another person before. Every time he thought he was, whenever Noiz and him had a moment where it felt like friendship was becoming too close to his borders, he left and cut it off, hoping to have gotten his message though.

Noiz’s worries from before began to return as the silence burned in ears. He started to worry he was pushing Sly away, encouraging him to leave him. He had to hear what the rogue had to say…

“Before what?” he asked.

“Just fucking let me leave already!” Sly shouted in a panicked, hurriedly getting up and failing, falling back down even before Noiz crossed the space between them and pressed Sly’s knees back onto the bed with the heavy palms of his hands, their eyes a hair apart, expressionless versus wild anger.

“Why,” Noiz spoke in a whisper. Sly’s stunned faced flashed to anger, weak hands struggling to shove Noiz away.

“ _Because_ , that’s why. Out there rotting in the streets is where I belong! It’s where I’ve always been! It’s where everyone always fucking leaves me and you’re no _fucking different_!” Noiz could see no that Sly was trying –and failing – not to cry. His eyes were watering and if Noiz knew what burning felt like, he assumed it was what Sly was feeling. He could see it in the way he winced and trembled and shook, as though every inch of his skin were pricked constantly. He could see it as Sly’s pushing hands slowly trembled against his chest.

“You’ll just…just pretend to care a-and leave and… Like my parents and Koujaku and… I can’t handle that anymore, not from you…”

From him.

From Noiz.

Without him saying it, Sly finally said he needed Noiz.

By this point Sly was shaking but no longer with the half the rage he held before. Watery tears spilled from his crunched eyes like a faucet broke. His head fell against Noiz’s shoulder, his voice trembling, weak, and cracked when he spoke.

“Let me go so I don’t think you’ll actually want me here, Noiz. Just let me pretend and make it easier and go before I…before…” He never finished that sentence and Noiz never asked about it. The man just kept crying, hiding his face in his hands when Noiz leaned away, using his fists to wipe off the tears that were only replaced in another second. Even with a dripping nose, wet eyes, trembling lips, and that sad, familiar expression, Sly Blue was still very…very...

“Gross.”

“What?” Sly asked, eyes big and watery and full of confusion, his hands still wiping off his face in a futile attempt. Noiz took those hands in his own, unable to feel them, but unable to care about that.

“You look really gross.” Sly frowned at that and tugged at his hands. “But you’re so damn beautiful.”

“You got bad taste,” Sly croaked, his voice weak as he looked away, puffy lips in a pout.

“Don’t say that kind of stuff.”

“You say that about yourself all the time.”

“Yeah, well, that’s different.”

“Not to me.”

Sly looked up at Noiz, his eyes stained with tear streaks and a determined look.

Time between them did that thing again. Where it seemed to stop and nothing mattered and wherever they were was nothing more than a passing thought. It was just as frightful as it was captivating. And the thought of making it last longer was a thought both seemed to share.

“I’m sorry,” Sly whispered, never blinking.

“For what?” asked Noiz in a softer whisper, his hands holding Sly’s as delicately as he could, shifting his weight to the bed, moving his face close enough for Sly to cross the rest of the distance himself. He’d let Sly pick their fate from here, just like he promised himself…

Sly shook his head, “For, you know, calling you that name. I didn’t mean it. Not to you.”

“Prove it.” As if Noiz could ever drop that tease to him, that smirk on his lips that’d get Sly riled up in whatever way possible.

And boy did it work.

Their lips pressed together quickly, barely half a second. Then again, a little longer. And again, much more longer, much more movement, and much more feeling, until it became both a mixture of kisses, and one long mesh of heat and strangled breaths. Sooner than later Sly found himself on his back, with Noiz above him, holding him down as he drowned the man in kisses.

Noiz hadn’t known he was holding his breath the entire time until he found himself gasping, leaving hot kisses down Sly’s neck, spurred on by the panting breaths of the man beneath him. He nipped once, getting an incredible gasp in response, a sound he felt he had only heard in dreams.

He’s never been this excited before.

Or perhaps he has, in some other world, in some other dream.

He was too caught up to think about anything other than Sly Blue.

A sudden jolt from the thug after a kiss on a bandage stopped Noiz for a second, but he kept his kissing along Sly’s neck to his collar while he hands roughly ran down the undersides of Sly’s legs, grinding into him with a deep groan. Noiz knew how he’d feel if he could: so fantastic, so warm, so, so happy.

Another gasp sounded off, different from the others before. This time Noiz looked up, almost annoyed. Sly was red in the face and his brows were knitted together (picture perfect) but his jaw was tight and there was a pool of red seeping on the sheet beneath his shoulder.

With a loud and heavy sigh, Noiz pulled back, leaving Sly confused and lying still.

“The hell is it? Thought you liked what you saw, bunny boy,” Sly purred, rolling his hips upwards. Noiz managed to hold his legs down but couldn’t stop his fingers from digging into his thighs just short of pleasurable.

“That’s not it. I want to. With you. Right now. Badly. But you’ll ruin all my hard work this way. We’ll save it for tomorrow,” he said, nipping once more at Sly’s neck and murmuring into the heat, “B’sides, you need to shower.”

“And you don’t?” Sly frowned, firmly holding Noiz where he was. “It doesn’t have to be about me right now, I’ll just suck you off or jack it or whatever. My mouth still works, you know.”

“Don’t want that.”

“Wow, fuck you too, buddy.”

“I just said not a fucking second ago that I wanted to bang you,” Noiz frowned, lifting his head just an inch.

“I’ll make it worth your while, come on!” Sly groaned, throwing his head back in a tantrum. “I’m already half hard and half dead, cut me some slack. You _like_ pain, right?”

“Not when it’s from you.” That caught Sly’s attention, but Noiz went on, “Quit acting like you owe me something.”

“I do owe you, jackass. You saved my skin back there. I’d be halfway down the drain by now and damning you all the way.” Golden eyes became softer, brows furrowing, his hands holding hard to the back of Noiz’s shirt. “For some fucking reason you’re always there when I need you. You know if it were the other way around, I wouldn’t give you the fucking time o’ day.”

“I know.”

“And you’re still sticking with me.”

“We talked about this already,” Noiz said, resuming little kisses on Sly’s neck. “Tomorrow we’ll do it.”

Sly hummed halfheartedly. “Better be the best sex of my life.”

“Don’t add too much pressure, I might skip out one more night.”

“Like you could hold back another day, you little shit!”

“Holding back right now is hell enough.”

Sly was glad Noiz was too busy looking away to see the blossoming red on his cheeks. He pressed his cheek against the fluff of blond hair beside him.

“Noiz…”

“Mmm?” Noiz hummed with a kiss behind Sly’s ear – and damn those chills were sweet to the taste.

“…Do you like me?”

“I like you. Do you like me?”

“Yeah. A lot.”

“Good. Or this would be weird,” Noiz smirked, earning a breathy laugh from the man beneath him.

Maybe it was safe… It was safe to be with Noiz. It’d be safe to let his walls down, to let someone in, to trust someone one more time. No one ever made Sly feel this way before, so was it the convenience of the right spoken words? Or was it just Noiz? Dammit, Sly couldn’t think of anything with the gentle tugging on his neck.

“You’re making it harder to go to sleep, you know,” Sly hummed, contentedly closing his eyes. Noiz slowed his kissing.

“…Sorry.”

“…I didn’t say stop.”

**Author's Note:**

> Noiz falls asleep to his beloved waifu and wakes up back in time where Sly Blue is king of the streets, yall
> 
> My first fanfic, just trying to get back into the hang of writing~ Please leave a comment and kudos, it'd really boost my confidence to make more of this trash pairing :'>


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